Thoughts

Now, keeping in mind that I’m on a website called “the suicide project”, I’m assuming you all know what it’s like to be depressed, to feel so much inside and to just want to let it all out on somebody, to tell them how you feel, what it’s like to be you. Now, I’m hoping not to sound condescending here, but maybe some of you can talk to your parents, a sibling, a friend, or a therapist. Point is, you might have somebody to talk to. And a lot of you, like me, are on here for a certain reason-you don’t have anyone to talk to.

But before I go on, here’s a story. My story.

I suppose it all started in sixth grade, when I really started to notice my body. I was overweight, and had a huge gut and huge thighs. This always made me a little sad, because all my friends were skinny, but I was never really depressed because of it, I mean, I had boobs and all before my friends, so I was ok. But in seventh grade I noticed how awkward I was, how other people were funny and cool, but I was just a fat wannabe. So I had started cutting. I even tried to starve myself, but I’m too fat for that, so I caved in. I did create an Instagram account for my depression though.My mom found out about everything, and talked with me about how I didn’t need to do that, and that was the end of it for her. She never spoke of it again. That February of seventh grade, my grandma, who had been sick for a while, passed away. The night before it happened, I had gone to visit her, and when I came back home, I was really sad, so I went over my friends house, who was already having people over, and didn’t even invite me at first until I told her how upset I was. When I fell asleep, one of them got into my iPod and found the account, and they woke me up and had a “Talk”, and told me how I wasn’t fat (which is the worst thing to say to a fat person, because it only makes them feel worse), and told me to stop. So I did, for a while. I threw my razors away, and was really sad still for a long time. Later, one of my friends who was at the party, told me (in front of all our friends) no one cared about how my grandma died or about how my other grandma was sick, and not one of my friends said a word, or even tried to comfort me.That really shook me. In April of that year, my other grandma passed away, with whom I was so close. That really brought back my depression. I didn’t cut though, no matter how much I wanted to. Summer came and went, and school started again. Through the beginning of the year, I kept comparing myself to other girls-pretty girls with flawless skin and flat stomachs. I forget at what point, but something horrible pushed me over the edge, and I started cutting again. Now I am the youngest of four. The order of oldest to youngest in our family goes Zach, my oldest brother, Alex, my oldest sister, and Maddie, my other sister, then me. When Zach was in high school, he was rebellious against my parents. He was arrested for underage drinking several times, and I have many bad memories of my dad screaming at him in the middle of the night. Alex, I’ve never really had a problem with, but the worst is Maddie. All throughout my childhood, she tortured me, saying I had no friends and our parents didn’t love me, and making fun of me in front of all my friends. She beat me up a lot when I was younger, and I think that really scarred me. She hasn’t really changed-she still abuses me verbally and physically. My mom thinks we’re just going through a phase, cause, you know, we’re both teenagers, but she’s wrong. Speaking of her, let me tell you a little nit about my mom. I always thought my mom was the nicest, coolest, most awesome mom in the world. And I think she was, she really was. I always thought she was the person I could go to if I needed to talk, and, again, she was. But like I mentioned earlier, one of my grandmas died in February, and that was my mom’s mom and her dad/my grandpa died when I was 2, so she was parent-less, and I think that really got to her. She started yelling more, getting more demanding, expecting more of me. I think it got in her head that she was the only one affected in our family, or that her pain was the greatest. I don’t think she really thought about how any of her kids felt. So she changed. I could never talk to her, the one person I could always talk to, my best friend. We’ve started arguing and screaming at each other, stuff we never used to do. She accuses me of never listening to her, when, in turn, she is the one who never listens to me.

Now I bring you back to my original problem-communication. A lot of us have things in common. One thing is we can’t tell anyone because there’s no one we feel comfortable telling. One year ago, I could have told my mom anything. Now, when I try, the words get caught in my throat. I really have no one to tell, with the occasional exception of my friends when I’m really upset. And that’s the problem. When you have no one to tell, you get trapped in your on thoughts, and your judgement can be clouded if you have no one to show you reason. You begin to think that you’re not wanted because no one cares enough to listen, but that’s not the truth. If you’re lucky enough to recover from this, you’ll realize there’s a lot of people who care about you, and I’m honestly saying I’m one of them. I may be a complete stranger to you, but in truth, we have a lot more in common than you think. If I were about to commit suicide, wouldn’t you post comments about how my life is worth so much? You don’t even know me, but I’m sure it’ll help you to sleep better at night if you know you helped keep someone from committing suicide today.
Anyway, like I said, a lot of people care, it’s just most of those people don’t know what’s going on with you, so you don’t know how to break it to them, so you don’t say anything. But then you get trapped inside your own mind. That can lead to one of two things-1. You end up here, pouring out your heart and soul anonymously, or 2. Killing Yourself, which if you couldn’t tell, is bad. Most likely, you’re reading this while on your laptop in your room, alone. Studies show that if you spend all your time being alone on your laptop or playing video games, or just watching some Netflix, you are at a higher risk for developing anxiety disorders, because you don’t come to terms with real life. So stop reading this and get some fresh air, just take your little brother or sister to the park, go to the grocery store with your mom or dad, or just plain read a book on your back porch. Small things like this can mean the difference between life or death.